Look at this as your 12 step recovery guide. We are in this together.
1: Silently cry into the empty confines of your closet.
2: Take a good hard look in the mirror and admit:
3: Repeat steps 1 and 2 for good measure.
4: Put your best online shopping addiction to the test by perusing the shit out of dress sites till your fingers cave from carpal tunnel.
5: Make hair and makeup appointment. Realize you are three months too late and everyone is booked.
6: ITS OKAY WE ARE GOING TO BE FiiiiiiiNE
*watches eyeliner Youtube tutorial*
7: Fuck. Where in God's name is my makeup remover.
8: Throws hair up in a bun and tells everyone you had it done.
Ex: “I LOVE you hair! Who did it?”
“Hair by Sarah!”
Sarah I know you’re out there.
9: Slips on heels. Walks out the door. Baby steps, you recite in agony, baby steps. Almost there. You are a strong independent woman.
10: Gets into the car fully clothed, no nip slips yet. TBD
11: Makes a beeline for the bar, leaves ID at home, pleas with the bartender. My GRANDFATHER BUILT THIS WEDDING HALL WITH HIS BARE HANDS STRAIGHT OFF THE BOAT FROM ALEPPO and you mean to tell me you can't pour me a drink?
12: Squeezes through the dance floor. Almost loses a limb. A toe. Your liver. And some other unidentifiable body parts. Somehow, makes it out there alive.